Echo
by Sarah Lankas
Summary: She's in love with a boy she's never met, and can't remember a day before she's awakened. She's the only one that can keep the future from unraveling and the past repeating. She's just an echo of the past, but she's the only one that can save the future.


The moon hangs in the air, bright and bloated.

A full moon.

For a second, I am mesmerized. I gaze up at the darkened sky, illuminated only by the glowing moon, and feel entirely at peace. After a few moments though, I regain my bearings. Fear begins to grow inside as a sense of unfamiliarity washes over me. Trees loom over me and a carpet of leaves guards me from the frozen ground. A faint shuffle and a distant howl are the only sounds of life in the all consuming night. My breath comes out in small puffs like smoke, and soon my sight is obscured by a cloud of my own making surrounding my head. In my sightlessness, I am almost delirious enough to believe I hear a sound, maybe the rustle of a body parting the underbrush. It must be a figment of my frightened imagination, because minutes must pass without any further noise.

But then, a branch breaks, emitting a hollow snap. It's what finally get me moving. I shoot up from the ground, springing up onto my toes and gazing into the forest with wide-eyed fear. I am somehow relieved by the thought of another presence in these woods-whatever animal it might be. The ever present darkness stares back at me unblinkingly, daring me to enter. A dare I do not take. As I begin to take a step forward though, by foot brushes against something much denser than the loosely packed earth. I reach a hand down to brush the coating of foliage away, and find my fingers meeting smooth bark. This isn't a clearing at all-as I had suspected-, but a tree stump, far wider than I am tall.

While quietly running my hand along the rings of the trees, I can't help but feel watched. As if there's some foreign presence quietly waiting in the darkness. I shake the thought from my head, feeling stupid and terrified.

Another branch snaps. I whip around to where I am certain the noise originated, much closer than the last.

A scream chokes in my throat and I find myself rooted to the spot. I blink my eyes rapidly, hoping that I will find that this hallucination has vanished when I open them, but I cannot seem to wish it away. Instead, I fall to my knees, prepared to beg for my life as _it_ slowly approaches.

"P-pu-please." I choke out around the lump in my throat, but it does not stop. It moves with primal grace, even though it walks on two legs. The ease of steps reminds me of a predator stalking its prey. The idea of being this thing's next meal sends shivers running from my head to toe.

The eyes were the first things I had originally noticed, glowing such a bright red that it permeated the opaque darkness. Slowly though, other features come into focus. It has the body of a man, prowling with the easy tread of a human. The danger is eminent though as it's fangs glint in the moonlight and claws tipping each finger wiggle almost in a show of mockery _. Fear me._ And yes. I am afraid.

"St-stop, stop. STOP!" The scream claws its way from my mouth, ripping out of me with strength I did not know I possessed. It stops, he stops. I back away in a jerky moment, close my eyes for only a second. A _boy_ now stands in front of me. I can't look away, I don't know if I will ever be able to look away. He looks so _human._ The smallest details send me spinning; the way his crooked jaw is now entirely hairless, his large hands gripping his arms-looking silly and plastic in comparison to the knife tipped dangers from seconds ago. I am even fascinated by the way he bites his lower lip, exposing his dull-tipped pearly teeth. I almost do not realize that he's speaking when they come into motion

"I'm not here to hurt you." He almost whispers to me. I still jerk back at the note of kindness in his voice, maybe even the hint of regret. "Please, I promise." I can see that he is still warry of me, that he does not trust me either, but still continues to extend his hand out me. Maybe he feels that he has nothing to fear, that I could never be a threat to whatever he is. Possibly I am the reason that is here, as it all seems to be too much for coincidence. Either way, he does not back away from me, does not seem scared of me. So, slowly, I stand. I tower over him from my perch on the tree, and this fact gives me a small burst of confidence. That, and the fact that I have written off the monster as a figment of my frightened imagination. For whatever reason, I take his hand.

When I come to, the earth seems to be shaking. I throw my eyes open and am met by a pleasant face and a crooked jaw. I hear them speaking, and am suddenly glad that I have remained so quiet. It doesn't feel right to listen in on their conversation, but I continue to keep my mouth glued shut.

"There's nothing _right_ about this Malia." I want to gasp as he almost mirrors my thoughts. I draw my eyes shut, feigning sleep to eavesdrop on the conversation. Quietly I wonder to myself how I got here, how this happened. I can remember taking his hand, but no further thoughts- _did he do this to me? Did he hurt me?_

"She's dangerous, Scott. You saw her back there. She wasn't gonna stop until you were _dead._ If I were you, I woulda left her." Worry envelopes her voice, and she doesn't even attempt to mask it. I can feel Scott shift closer, to talk to her, crunching what must be a thousand leaves underfoot as he walks. "I ju-"

"Shh." I hear him quiet her, then feel a small shifting. He's moving his arms around. I attempt to continue my act of sleep, but can't help but feel caught. "She's awake." He whispers, confirming my thoughts.

Almost as soon as he speaks, I feel a hand grasping my arm, the grip alarmingly strong. I cry out as I am ripped from his arms and gasp as the ground crashes into me. My mouth tastes like blood and my tounge stings, but other than that, I seem to be unscathed. Still, I am seething. A blind hatred floods trough me as I finally reopen my eyes. A tall brown haired girl stands over me in a defensive position, though not as worried as she should be. My hand shoots out for her ankle, grasping the cool smooth material of a boot. My hand slips as I pull, but she is thrown off balance. It gives me just enough seconds to spring up onto my feet. She comes up growling, her hands balled into fists. I barely give her enough time for reflection before jumping at her. Every part of me is crying out for blood, hungering to feel the smart of her face against my fist, the _taste_ of her.

I can practically feel the air she's gasping out on my closed fist, when another hand wraps around mine, and I find myself crying out-no- _crying out_ does not sound like a primal enough word. I _shriek._ The sound is ripped from my throat as I make another attempt to lunge at her, clawing at the arms that encompass me. My rage is blinding and I kick and scream with passion and strength that I did not know I possessed. My eyes rise up to meet hers, just in time to watch them flash blue. She seems to realize the change, and quickly drops her head into her hands.

"Scott!" She shouts, her voice distorted by her arms. As I watch her struggle, I am so fascinated that I finally calm down. _Scott_ seems to realize this and releases my body, instead reaching for her.

"Malia! Malia _focus._ Remember what we talked about, okay? You just have to find _control."_ He gently pulls her arms from her face, forcing her to look up at him. Finally, I do scream at what I see, because it's just like the monster from earlier, but her eyes burn blue instead of red. Neither of them seem to notice my horror and for once I am glad. I can't believe I managed to let myself be dragged into this, to be trapped in the middle of the woods with these _animals._ But again, I do not move from my spot. I choose instead to watch them.

"I _knew_ this was the _worst idea._ " She cries earnestly, and I feel somewhat less scared, choosing to believe that _things_ don't have emotions. _Monsters_ don't have emotions. "On a full moon, Scott? I should have _never_ came." As I listen to her, I realize that it wasn't her arms distorting her voice, but that it has deepened, holding a rough undertone that is nowhere near human. I look up to the sky, finally noticing through the tree limbs that it _is_ a full moon.

Ever so slowly, the peaces fall into place. _The eyes, the teeth, the claws, the moon._

 _Werewolves._

Before the though even full processes, I find my feet moving.

And I run.


End file.
